


Scisaac Oneshots

by ThePirateHawk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cute, F/F, F/M, Little Drabbles, M/M, Minorsterek, Scisaac - Freeform, minorallydia, possiblyheated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-08-28 02:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8427313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePirateHawk/pseuds/ThePirateHawk
Summary: A bunch of little Scisaac shots with mentions of Sterek and Allydia.I just wanted to test my writing skills because I love Scisaac.





	1. And I Will Try To Fix You

**Author's Note:**

> All titles are from songs.   
> This first one is Fix You by Coldplay

Isaac Lahey didn't trust a lot. Then again, his reasons for trust issues were definitely understandable. Every young boy was supposed to be able to trust his father. He was supposed to be able to confide in his father. He was supposed to be able to look up to his father.

After his mother's death, Isaac couldn't do any of that. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he attempted to impress his father, nothing he could do was every good enough. Nothing. Isaac got good grades. He got accepted onto sports teams. But his father always seemed to hate him. Isaac never understood it. He didn't know why he was worthless. He didn't know why he was useless. He didn't know why he was hated by everybody.

The night Isaac Lahey's father died, he didn't feel as much relief as he thought he would have felt. He thought he would have been glad to be free from that hateful household. But in reality, part of him would always miss his father. Part of him would miss the good parts of him, the part of him that existed before his mother died. The bad parts always would stay with him. He would always remember those bitter, hatefilled words. Everyone would secretly think he was useless, and he knew it.

But that was when Isaac met the puppy-eyed Scott McCall. Scott made Isaac feel like he had a worth, a value, that he was useful.

"Isaac, I need to tell you something." Scott said suddenly as their round of Call Of Duty ended. 

"What's up, Scott?" Isaac asked as he set his controller down on the table.

"I know this is out of the blue," Scott began. "But I just want to let you know, man, that if you ever need anything, I'm here."

"Whoa, what brought this up?" Isaac asked, tilting his head.

"I just– you've seemed sad lately. I just thought you deserved to know that somebody cares about you."


	2. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac Lahey is prone to panic attacks/anxiety attacks that are linked with memories of his father. They're not normal panic attacks, more like hallucinations and such because he's a werewolf and this is kinda an AU?

**I'm Sorry [Scisaac]  
TW : Abuse, Angst  
Rated : Teen Up Audiences**  
-  
Isaac couldn't do this anymore.  
He couldn't deal with it.  
He felt the tears swimming in his eyes as he gasped for air, unable to control himself. He grabbed at anything around him, panicking. He was breaking down. The calm façade he had delicately put up when around the pack was crumbling.  
_Please don't lock me in the freezer again, Dad._  
_Shut the fuck up, Isaac._  
Flashes of past memories drove at him full force. Gasps for air weren't enough. He couldn't get any oxygen. Tears sparkled in his eyes even more frequently than before. He tried to stumbled forward but only succeeded in falling down. He needed something to anchor him. Or he was going to die here of a panic attack. Sad for a werewolf to die like that.  
"Scott!"  
Isaac hadn't even known he was going to scream the tan boy's name until he already had. This was followed by anxious gasps of air, even more than before _._  
_"Dad, what did I do?" Isaac asked desperately as he pushed himself back against the corner of the wall, eyes widened with fear._  
_"That's a stupid fucking question, Isaac. But why am I surprised? Fucking stupid people ask stupid things. Is that why you can even hold a stable high B in class, you dip-shit?" His father rambled darkly, stepping towards him, throwing a glass at him._  
_"I'm sorry." Isaac whimpered, shielding himself back against the wall more, glass shattering on him. A few shards stuck in his skin, making him shakily look at his arm, where a particularly large piece of glass was stuck in the back of his wrist. He looked back up at his father, seeing him coming closer. "Stay away!" Isaac screamed, kicking and thrashing as his father grabbed him by the hair. He thrashed still, panicking. He knew where his father was going to take him._  
_The basement._  
Isaac was gasping still, bringing his knees to his chest as tears streaked down his cheeks. His eyes were open but glassy, as if he were dead already. He looked terrified and lost. He let out another petrified screech.  
"Dad, please stop!" Isaac screamed, banging his hands on the sides of his head now. "Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.." He continued repeating this one word, between shaky sobs. He wanted his father to leave him alone. He started sobbing grossly and shaking all over as he slipped in and out of reality. He still continued repeating that one phrase, begging for his father to stop. It went from a pained whisper to screaming to back to pained murmuring.  
"Isaac, I'm home—" Scott's cheery voice stopped abruptly when he picked up on Isaac's pain. He ran upstairs immediately, not caring about anything except Isaac at the moment. Scott almost broke down into tears himself when he saw his boyfriend huddled in the corner of the room, several knocked down and broken things strewn across the room from when he probably had tried to walk but lost control of himself.  
Scott ran forward to Isaac, grabbing his wrists firmly, looking into his eyes. "Isaac. Isaac." He said to him, trying to anchor him. Only the good Lord knew what the poor teenager was experiencing.  
Isaac was gasping still, but not as intense. Until another one hit him.  
_Isaac was eating dinner. He was sitting across from his father. He quietly was nursing his broken arm that had snapped when Isaac's father threw him down the stairs to the basement. The sickening thing was that he knew his son's arm was broken, but he just dragged him by said broken arm and threw him in the freezer anyways.  
He even made sure to put Isaac's arm in there in the wrong position.  
Isaac had screamed and banged his good arm against the top and sides of the freezing, begging desperately for his father to let him out.  
He looked at his father quietly from across the table, knowing what he was about to bring up.  
"I got a call from the school today."  
Those words were damning.  
"Mrs. Morrell says you broke into tears when she gave you your report card. She said you were begging that you were sorry and you would fix it. Embarrassed the hell out of me." Isaac's father snarled as he dropped his fork on the plate with a small clatter.  
"I- Dad- I-" Isaac was trying to think of something to say to make his father less angry. He felt tears prick his eyes. "Please don't lock me in the basement."  
Mr. Lahey ignored his son's begging statement and stammering. "She told me you said you broke your arm in Lacrosse, but Finstock said you did no such thing. How fucking stupid are you, Isaac? If they find out, I swear to God, you're going to pay. And you won't be able to tell anyone anything then." He snapped, eyes blazing.  
"Dad, I'm-"  
"Don't give me your pointless, useless apologies, Isaac. All you do is make things worse. You're the reason Camden left. If you had never been born, maybe we would all be happier." He snapped, cutting Isaac off. "Why were you even crying over your report card, Isaac? Because you fucking failed something? Like you fail everything?"  
"I.. I got a C in math." Isaac's voice was barely above a whisper.  
"You what? Speak up when you're speaking to me!" His father practically roared.  
"I got a C in math." His voice trembled slightly but he spoke louder._  
_"I think this deserves a trip to the basement, don't you, Isaac?"  
"No- No, Dad, please. Please don't. Please. I'm sorry. I'll do better! I'll do better!" Isaac started to hyperventilate.  
"Shut up."  
"I'll do better- I will do better. I'll talk about tutoring- I-" Isaac scrambled to find the right words.  
"I said.. SHUT UP!"_  
"I promise I'll do better. I will do better. I promise I'll do better. Please don't lock me in the freezer." Phrases similar to these flew out of Isaac's mouth, and his vision was blurred by tears. But he tried to focus on what he was looking at. He wasn't alone anymore in the bedroom.  
Scott McCall was crouched in front of him, hands holding his wrists to keep him from hitting himself in the head repetitively like he was doing earlier.  
"I promise.. I promise I'll do better.." He couldn't help but continue to whisper these things.  
"Isaac Lahey, look at me. Not around the room, look at me. Just me, okay? I'm right here." Scott said firmly but warmly to Isaac, releasing his wrists slowly. Once he made sure Isaac wasn't going to start beating himself again, he wrapped his arms around Isaac. He rested one hand on the back of his neck and gently slipped his fingers in the base of Isaac's scalp, massaging small little circle patterns with his fingers. The other arm was wrapped around Isaac fully, hand spread on the side of his stomach, rubbing gently and slowly.  
Isaac's gasping breaths that were choking himself slowed. He slowly became more aware of where he was. The fact the love of his life was holding onto him in the middle of his- or their- bedroom slowly sunk in. He suddenly let out a shaky sob, burying his face in the crook of Scott's neck. This was were being a werewolf came into play. He buried his nose into Scott's scent glands on the side of his neck, breathing in his mate's scent. He slowly calmed, but still was shaking and whimpering, clinging to Scott like he were a lifeline.  
"I will never ever let anybody hurt you like that ever again, baby." Scott murmured in his boyfriend's ear soothingly. Isaac nestled against his boyfriend, and slowly more welcome memories flooded his mind at the warm scent of his boyfriend.  
" _Isaac, what flavor do you want?" Scott asked with his boyish puppy-like look. "I'm paying."  
"I want to pay, Scott-"  
"Uh-uh. Scarf-wearing boyfriends aren't allowed to pay for ice cream." Scott grinned and pecked Isaac's lips, playing with his scarf before he pulled back. "Now what flavor do you want?"  
Isaac ignored the uncomfortable or disgusted looks from a few people, just smiling at Scott. "You're too good to me." He shook his head.  
Scott hummed happily. "Let me guess.. your favorite ice cream flavor is mint chocolate chip?" Scott grinned.  
"How did you know?" Isaac asked with a smile.  
"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't know my darling's favorite ice cream flavor?" Scott winked. "Besides, before we started dating, I may or may not have been lowkey following you."  
"Scott McCall." Isaac blushed, likely smacking his shoulder. "Stalker. Your name should be Scott McStalker." Isaac mused.  
Scott laughed.  
"As much as I love to see you two soulmates lovingly converse, we have two homophobes behind y'all and I really don't want them to ruin your moment." The woman behind the counter, a light skinned girl with dark brown hair in a bun smiled at the two. "Oh no, look, they left. Whatever will I do." She mocked as the two mentioned grumpily stomped out. "So, what will you two be having?"  
"I'll be getting-"  
"Chocolate. Chocolate is your favorite." Isaac burst out, before he sheepishly smiled.  
"You see this kid?" Scott motioned to him. "He's like this everyday." He snickered.  
"Like what? I'm innocent." Isaac batted his eyelashes.  
"You two are way too cute. I don't think it's healthy." The woman behind the counter shook her head.  
"My innocent boy right here is going to have mint chocolate chip." Scott finished the order. "Also, can I get your name?"_  
_"Okay. I'll get that right up for you." She smiled. "I'm Donut."_  
 _"You're who now?"_  
"Donut. My real name is Bella."  
"Oh, I was about to have a heart attack. I thought your parents named you Donut." Isaac let out a breath, hand on his chest.  
Donut laughed. She scooped their ice cream before handing it to them.  
Isaac quickly slipped a ten dollar bill in the tip jar when Scott wasn't looking. "Shh, don't tell him I paid any money or he'll strangle me." Isaac mumbled to Donut before happily walked off with Scott, who handed him a ten dollar bill innocently.  
"Werewolf hearing, babe."  
  
"That's it, Isaac. Calm down, baby. I'm here. I got you. I'm right here. I'm always gonna be right here for you." Scott cooed softly. "Wether I'm in person or not."  
"I l-like i-it a lot b-better w-when y-you're in p-person." Isaac stammered quietly to him.  
Little did either boy know, Melissa McCall was standing in the doorway, watching her son and his boyfriend. She had a grim expression on her face.  
"M-Melissa?" Isaac caught her scent when he lifted his head, looking at her with round blue eyes.  
"Hey, Isaac. All I have to say is that your father is lucky he is dead, because if he wasn't, I'd kill him myself."  
Scott looked over at his mother with a bewildered expression.  
"And I'd get away with it, too. Because you're such a sweet boy, Isaac. Sure, you're sassy sometimes, but that's just a part of you. I wouldn't have it any other way." Her expression softened more. "And.. and you make my son happy, Isaac. He's definitely changed."  
"I'm right here, Mom."  
"Good, I'm glad you're hearing this. Isaac, you can count on me whenever you need something. If Scott isn't here, and you feel like one of your attacks are coming on, come straight to me. I'm not Scott, but I care about you. A lot, Isaac. You're like a second son." Melissa said softly.  
Isaac smiled. "Thank you, Melissa." He said softly, eyes watering.  
Except this time, they were tears of joy.


	3. I may be crazy, don't mind me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack decides to go out clubbing for the night to burn off some steam.  
> Isaac's ideal night of relief is definitely not watching Scott grind against some chic he met.  
> Scott's ideal night of relief is definitely not turning and seeing Isaac with some man he met.

**I may be crazy, don't mind me**

**-cussing, steamy dancing-**

**-**

Isaac definitely wasn't having his ideal night. The pack's idea of relief was either pack cuddle night or pack clubbing night. Isaac's idea was relief was not watching some chic grind against Scott like she was prepared to take him home and fuck him. Their steamy, rough movements made Isaac's insides boil with jealousy.

The grip he had on his half-empty glass of beer tightened until he was afraid he was going to break it. He decided to dig his claws into the bottom of the bartop instead, so he wouldn't crush the glass beer bottle in front of everyone.

He continued to watch Scott warily, biting his lip. He knew the other werewolves would eventually smell his rapidly growing jealousy and possessiveness. He didn't care. They would probably be busy grinding against each other anyways. He forced himself to pull his gaze away from Scott and the girl. His gaze instead landed on something he wasn't too surprised to see. Derek and Stiles kissing like there was no tomorrow, Derek gripping Stiles's wrists tightly. Isaac rolled his eyes, quietly wishing he could be doing that with Scott at the moment.

The next couple Isaac's eyes land on are two he had suspected for awhile. He knew they were best friends, and had suspected they were low-key lovers as well. Allison and Lydia were dancing against each other in ways that made Scott's grinding look like innocent ballet. He thought of why Allison was where she was. He could see the yellows of her werewolf eyes from here. Scott had turned her before she could die.

Isaac's gaze wandered around the room. His eyes landed on Malia and Kira, whose movements were the same as Allison and Lydia's dirty dancing. He had no idea the pack members were this wound up. They all seemed to be releasing sexual tension, while he was stuck here sitting at the bar watching his long time crush grind against a girl.

"Hey there, pretty boy."

Isaac turned his head to see a fairly tall man standing before him. Isaac was tall, taller than Scott, but this man was taller than Isaac. He looked up at him. He wasn't too much taller. An inch or two. 

"Hi.. there..." Isaac said awkwardly.

"I can smell your sexual tension all the way across the bar." His voice was graveled slightly. Isaac blinked before he realized what this meant. The guy was a werewolf.

"Are you-"

"I'm the alpha of a visiting pack." He answered Isaac's question before he could finish it. "I just happened to see you, a very lonely beta." He grinned.

Isaac decided it wouldn't hurt to talk with him a bit. It wasn't like he had much of anything else to do.

"My name is Isaac." He introduced himself.

"I'm Daven. Alpha of the Alistir pack." Davin smiled at Isaac, his smile slightly crooked. "Which pack are you from: Hale or McCall?" He asked absentmindedly.

"I switch between. I answer to both as my alphas." Isaac shrugged.

"Interesting. Do a lot of you do that?" 

"Not really. I just like both of them. We're a little close." Isaac shrugged. He wasn't stupid; he was still wary enough not to get too much information.

"Big packs?" Damen asked causally.

"Afraid I can't tell you. Only the alphas should." Isaac looked him over.

"Oh, I'm sure I can get some information out of you." Damen stepped a little closer, his voice seductive. It wasn't a threat- it was a flirt. A pick-up line. "Besides, you're such a pretty beta."

"uh... Thanks?" Isaac smiled slightly. 

"You know, I'm sure neither would mind if we-"

"I see you've meant my beta Isaac, Damen." Scott said with a controlled voice from behind Damen.

"I certainly have." Damen straightened up immediately. 

"Trying to seduce him?" Scott's inquiry was more of a snap. "I don't think so. Get your ass away." He snarled. Damen didn't put up a fight and left.

"What the hell was that, Scott?"

"Isaac, you're not supposed to let other alphas get you into bed. They can make you involuntarily join them. Plus, you're McCall pack territory, not to mention also Hale pack. He's stupid to try and mess with my beta." Scott had a certain possessiveness to his voice.

Isaac cowered a little. "I'm sorry, Scott. I didn't know. I wasn't really going to sleep with him. I was actually waiting for you to stop dancing with that chic." He objected.

"Oh really?" Scott raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. I.. I wanted to dance with you. Damen said I smell sexually frustrated. Do I?" Isaac rambled.

"You do. Part of the reason why I came over. I wanted to do something."

"Do what?"

"This." 

Scott slammed his lips against Isaac's, catching the beta by surprise but he melted into the kiss immediately. Scott nipped at his lip slightly they groped at and grabbed at each other. Isaac opened his mouth and immediately felt Scott's tongue inside it. He whimpered against the kiss, letting Scott dominate.

Scott pulled back, licking his lips. "Who is your alpha?" He muttered lowly to Isaac.

"You are." Isaac answered breathlessly.

"Good."

Isaac had definitely never expected Scott to become like that— he had never seen him like that before. But he was pleasantly surprised.


	4. everything is grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate AU where you meet your soulmate, and you see color for the first time.  
> But the world goes back to gray when they die.  
> warning : angst

****Isaac Lahey's world was probably going to always be grey. He didn't think he was capable of being loved by any. Well, that was before Scott McCall.

He thought he loved Allison, but when he touched her, his world remained grey. They weren't meant to be. He tried to make them work, he tried so hard. It turned out, Lydia was her soul mate.

Lydia's world was grey again now.

Nobody ever asked her about it. Nobody ever brought it up around her unless she started the topic. She had two moods– talk about Allison, and don't talk about Allison. Most of the time it was the latter, unless she was with someone she was close to.

Isaac thought he would be stuck in a grey world, never to see color. Lydia had seen color, she had experienced it, but even she was stuck seeing grey permanently now. Nothing could change it until she died.

Isaac pitied her. She was stuck like that.

He wasn't because he had met Scott McCall.

There was a night at the party when Scott handed him something. His fingers had barely brushed his own, and he thought he had seen a glimpse of color. He then thought he was going crazy.

The night at the clinic, however, Scott put his hand on Isaac's to guide his palm on the hurt dog. Isaac was just about to take pain when he felt a shock in his hand. It was a strong tingle in his hand where Scott was touching.

Both the boys had jumped away, and slowly took in their circumstances.

It was gorgeous.

Colors and lights filled the room. The dog had a beautiful colorful collar– Scott had tan skin. He looked at himself, eyes watering. His skin had _color_. Actual, real _color_. 

His jeans were a dark blue denim, and his belt was a deep brown. His shoes were red and grey athletic shoes. He looked at Deaton, whose skin was a deep brown color. He started to cry.

Both of them did.

Isaac had never seen colors before. It was all so shocking and overwhelming. He felt all sorts of emotions. He liked the deep brown color Scott's eyes were the best.

He wondered what color eyes he had distantly, but he didn't ponder on that too long. He flung himself into Scott, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his neck.

"I knew it was you two." Deaton said warmly as he watched the two boys throw themselves at each other.

It was like seeing everything for the first time. Seeing clearly and real. Like a person with impaired vision putting on glasses and seeing the details of the world. He could see the specks of color in the hem of his sweater. He could see the lucious brown locks atop of Scott's head, and how some had the light on them, giving them a soft shine. 

He refused to let go of Scott, breathing in his scent. It had always reminded him of cinnamon. What color was cinnamon? Was it blue like the denim of his jeans, or was it brown like Scott's eyes?

"Boys, as much as I love this happy union, you both still have work to do." Deaton said firmly but with a hint of humor in his voice.

Isaac finally released his clinging grip on Scott, nodding, a smile still in his face. He liked the way Scott's eyes lit up when he smiled. 

 

Several weeks later, Isaac just couldn't get another of color. He would take walks with Scott through the woods and point out the colors he liked and didn't like. He was honestly like a happy, curious child. Scott was the same way, pointing out his favorites and unfavorites. Scott's favorite color was blue like Isaac's eyes, and Isaac's favorite color was brown like Scott's eyes.

They were both hopeless romantics at heart, spoiling the other whenever they could. Scott would get Isaac red, orange, pink, brown, any color scarves, and Isaac would get him plenty of different things, like different colored dirt bike/motorcycle helmets, his favorite ice cream, anything he felt like he wanted to give Scott.

They were very happy boyfriends, that's for sure. They spoiled and cherished each other.

Isaac didn't want it to end ever. He didn't ever want to be stuck seeing grey ever again.

-

Scott didn't like the color grey.

He had thought Allison was his soul mate. Like Isaac, he had tried to make it work. He wanted it. He wanted it bad at that time. But they both knew it wouldn't work out.

When he touched Isaac's hand, he never expected his world to become saturated and soaked with color and vivid life. He hadn't expected to look at Isaac, who was standing there with beautiful blue eyes and curly brownish blond hair. He hadn't expected his own eyes to start to water like Isaac's had begun to. He hadn't expected to wrap his arms around Isaac and rest his chin on top of his head, closing his eyes at the taller male breathed in his scent. Isaac had commented once that Scott smelled like cinnamon. He had always wondered what color cinnamon was. Now he could show himself and Isaac.

Now they could be happy, now they could be together and grow old with each other. Now he could be with Isaac like Derek was with Stiles. They could all keep in contact and stay friends. Maybe they would go to those high school renunions that happen when you get older. He wanted his future to be full of color, life, and Isaac.

One night, he brought home cinnamon just for Isaac. He knew he liked it on his sweet potatoes. So Scott had decided he was going to attempt to make sweet potatoes with little marshmallows and cinnamon sprinkled on top just like Isaac said his mother used to do before she died.

Scott wanted to do something special for Isaac, and he was gonna do it. 

So he tried.

They weren't the best sweet potatoes, and Scott could tell. He hoped Isaac would like them anyway. He worked so hard on trying to be a good cook for his boyfriend.

Scott's favorite memory was when Isaac came home and suddenly let out the more childish squeal he had ever heard come out of the beta werewolf. He chuckled as his curly-haired boyfriend darted into the dining area. 

Scott remembered Isaac practically inhaling them and then cuddling with Scott on the couch until he fell asleep. Scott had carried him gently up the stairs and laid him in their bed. He had climbed in beside him and wrapped his arms around the taller male, falling asleep with his nose nestled in the boy's hair.

 

Scott was on his motorcycle going to Derek's when he noticed the colors he had grown accustomed to were paler and faded. He frowned, figuring his eyes must be playing tricks on him because he was so tired. He continued on his normal drive.

He quietly bit his lip in confusion when the colors proceeded to fade, getting quicker and quicker. He realized with what felt like a slap to the face that Isaac was in serious trouble.

 _Serious_ trouble.

Scott revved his motorcycle and sped up as much as he could, practically drowning in worry as he skidded to a stop in front of Derek's loft. He werewolf sprinted up the stairs and threw open the door, panting in panic.

His entire world was barely in color as he stared at the scene in utter disbelief.

"Isaac." He could barely whisper his name as he ran over to the crumpled body on the ground. He saw Derek pull himself up weakly and limp over frantically in the corner of his eye.

"Isaac, darling, look at me." Scott murmured, tears in his eyes as he looked at Isaac's close to grey body. He put both his hands on his soul mate's face, breathing shakily.

"I-I'm sorry, S-Scott." Isaac breathed out with trembling lips. Blood was slick on his lips and running from his nose. He was gazing at Scott's face with cloudy eyes.

"What are you sorry for, baby? You have done nothing wrong." Scott let out a soft, airy sob after he spoke, tears slipping off his lashes and sliding down his cheeks.

"Y-You're g-gonna h-have to s-see-" Isaac paused, breathing shakily. "-g-grey now. I- know- y-you- d-don't-" He paused again. "l-like grey." He breathed out the last part, looking at Scott with teary eyes.

Scott knew what was about to happen. His world was almost fully dull now. It stopped fading for a moment, and he could see all the colors. They weren't as vibrant, but they were still beautiful. "It's not your fault, Isaac, don't worry about any of that." Scott murmured as he gently wrapped his hand around Isaac's hand, taking his pain from him.

"I-I love you, S-Sc-Sc-" Isaac was having trouble. "Sc-c-cott." He finished, smiling shakily at him.

Scott's colors remained pale but visible and still beautiful. He savored them. He savored the color of Isaac's beautiful eyes and his honey-brown curls. He tried to look past the blood soaking some of them that pasted the curls against his head slickly. "I love you, too, Isaac. I won't ever stop loving you. I promise." Scott mumbled, kissing Isaac's forehead gently.

That was when everything went grey.


	5. daddies and daisies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Isaac Lahey-McCall have been married for seven years, and their five year old daughter Brooklyn decided to make them a little gift made out of daisies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the most beautiful and inspiring person to be named Brooklyn on this planet.  
> You know who you are.

Scott Lahey-McCall couldn't help but smile as his husband of seven years came up behind him, his long arms wrapping around Scott's waist loosely. It wasn't long before he felt a pair of lips pressed against the back of his ear and then the side of his neck. "Hey, baby," Isaac hummed softly, holding onto his lovely husband from behind. "You look so precious. I just walk in here and you just- ugh, every time I see you, I'm reminded why I married you." He gushed gently. "Stop," Scott held out the vowel in the word, a cute little grin on his face as he listened to Isaac. "You're too good to me, pup." Scott doubted he would ever stop calling his lovely Isaac the nickname "pup." It was something he had started when they first had started dating back in high school, and it had stuck ever since. Kind of like how Isaac still called him Scottie. As if on cue, there Isaac went: "No, I am not, Scottie," he protested, giving the back of Scott's neck a chaste kiss before releasing his loose grip around his husband. Isaac turned and looked around the kitchen they were both standing in. "Where's my little Brookie?" He asked Scott. Scott raised an eyebrow playfully. "Correction: our little Brookie." He leaned up and pecked Isaac's nose. "She's my daughter, too, you know. Sometimes I think you forget that, babe." He said jokingly before answering what he had been asked. "She's playing in the yard, I was about to go check on her when you came in." Isaac smiled. "Let's go check on her together then." However, before the two could go check on said daughter, they heard the glass sliding door to the backyard open and the sound of tiny breaths heaving with the effort of sliding it open. "Daddy, daddy, come here!" Their little five year old daughter, Brooklyn, ran in excitedly. Her face lit up even more when she saw her other father was home now, too. "Dada! Don't worry, I made one for you, too!" Brooke ignored her fathers' confused looks as she scurried towards them. Whatever she was holding she set down on the couch out of Scott and Isaac's sights, so they assumed it was supposed to be a surprise. Brooke launched herself up into Isaac's arms, giggling and smiling as she greeted her father. Scott feigned jealous looks until Brooke stuck her hands out for him to hold her instead. "You have your dada's eyes, I swear, Brookie," Scott gushed to his daughter, who just smiled and nodded, telling him how many times that he had said it to her before. "I have not said it nine times today," Scott protested playfully. Brooke gave a little nod. "Yes, yes you have! Hasn't he, Dada?" She looked at Isaac with her cute round eyes. "Oh, I'm sure he has," Isaac answered with a smirk as he eyed Scott, who faked offense. "Daddy, Dada, I want to show you something I maked today!" Brooke said, excitement saturating her voice and movements. "It's made, Brookie. It's something you "made" today," Scott said with a small smile, warmth in his brown eyes. "Oh, well I wanna show you!" Brooke said as Scott let her down. She raced back to the couch, grabbing what she had made with a gentleness, as if it were made of the most fragile form of glass. She didn't want to ruin whatever it was— she wanted to make sure she got to show her daddies. "I made these for you!" Brooke said, holding up two shakily assembled daisy flower crowns. She had carefully woven them together using the daisies she had found in the back yard garden. Being only five made it kind of hard to craft something elegant, so it wasn't exactly the best assembled. But it meant the world to both Isaac and Scott. Isaac's face lit up like a Christmas tree. He never had to fake joy or excitement when it came to Brooke. He loved her more than life itself; her and Scott both. "Oh, Brookie, it's absolutely beautiful." Isaac had to get on his knees for her to be able to reach the top of his head to put the flower crown on. He gently took it from her hands and put it on, but she shook her head. "You didn't put it on right! I'll fix it." Brooke said loudly, moving to where she could adjust the crown slightly on Isaac's head. He smiled as she did so. "Me next!" Scott said excitedly, crouching down to Brooklyn's level so she could crown him with the daisy crown like she had done to Isaac. Scott was just as happy about it as Isaac was. Their daughter was their entire world. "I name you the kings of... Flowers!" Brooke grinned as she looked proudly at her work; both her fathers were standing tall with white daisy flower crowns atop their heads thanks to her. She had forgotten to make herself one, but she didn't really mind. She just like seeing her daddies smile. "Thank you, sweetheart." Isaac kissed her forehead. Right after Isaac had done that, Scott swooped her up in his arms. "You are the princess of flowers, then," he announced, smiling at both Isaac and Brooke. They stayed like that, the happy and carefree kings and princess of flowers until they went to sleep that night.


	6. we are the reckless, we are the wild youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning : abuse, angst
> 
> based off of the song Youth by Daughter:
> 
> Shadows settle on the place, that you left  
> Our minds are troubled by the emptiness  
> Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time  
> From the perfect start to the finish line
> 
> And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones  
> 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs  
> Setting fire to our insides for fun  
> Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong  
> The lovers that went wrong
> 
> We are the reckless  
> We are the wild youth  
> Chasing visions of our futures  
> One day we'll reveal the truth  
> That one will die before he gets there
> 
> And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones  
> 'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone  
> We're setting fire to our insides for fun  
> Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked our home  
> It was a flood that wrecked this home  
> And you caused it  
> And you caused it  
> And you caused it

All it would take was one mistake, one misstep, one creaky floorboard, and Isaac would be caught. 

The boy's footsteps were always light and fleet; they were a slight brush of the hard skin of the pads of his feet against the smooth wooden floorboards of Isaac Lahey's house. His steps were always planned carefully. Isaac knew this house like the back of his hand, even at times like right now where the only light he had was the dim shining of the moon through the half opened blinds on the living room windows. 

The pathway to the front door was a long one if someone were trying to sneak out like Isaac was. He had to trek carefully out of his bedroom, slowly and gently close the door like it was made of fragile porcelain that would break if closed even the slightest bit hard, creep down the short hallway to the stairs, and make it down the old creaky stairs. After the stairs, he faced the journey from the base of the steps to the front door. With the way his house was laid out, he had to zigzag from the main hallway, through the kitchen, and to the shortest hallway in the house: the one that led to the front door. Unfortunate for Isaac, that last hallway had very creaky wooden floorboards. The fortunate fact for Isaac was that he knew which floorboards were creaky and which were not. He could carefully pick his way through them like tiptoeing through a mine field; the slightest pressure on the wrong place would set off an explosive chain of events. 

Mr. Lahey was generally an extremely light sleeper. What didn't help the matter was that Isaac never knew if his father was going to be asleep on the couch or actually in his bedroom. Ever since Mrs. Lahey had passed, his father seemed to both adore and despise his bedroom. Some days he would spend all twenty four hours of the day in there; other days, he would stay anywhere but. This wasn't like Camden's room— Mr. Lahey avoided that room as much as he possibly could. 

Isaac, however, adored that room. When he was younger and his brother had first set off on his stationing in the foreign country he had been assigned, Isaac would sometimes sleep in his brother's room. He and Camden had been really close before he had been sent off to join the military; Isaac loved his older brother through and through. Even when they fought, as all siblings did, they still made up and had good times together.

Isaac really missed Camden.

Camden was such an open-minded person when it came to things like love. Isaac just knew that Camden would approve of what he had been doing for the past month and a half: sneaking out and meeting Scott McCall near the edge of the woods that were a twenty minute walk from his house. Isaac really thought Camden would like Scott; he was sweet, and he genuinely cared about Isaac.

Isaac shut the front door carefully behind him, looking around to see if any of their nosy neighbours were looking at him and seeing him sneak out. Isaac knew he would for sure be dead if his father found out he was sneaking out every other day, if not every single day, to meet with his boyfriend. He didn't have any time during the day to do so; his father kept him on a close radar when it came to that. If he figured out Isaac had a boyfriend.. Isaac shuddered at the thought.

Night walks when you weren't paranoid of being watched by any person would be calm. Isaac wished he could relate; his walks were hurried and full of paranoia and worry. What if someone sees him? What if Scott doesn't come? What if his father was actually following him? He usually ended up in a sweat and worrisome fretting mood by the time he reached Scott. 

As per usual, Isaac was absolutely terrified by the time he was a mere two minutes away from the only thing that made him feel happy anymore. One more minute and thirty seconds, he reminded himself. He really wished he wasn't so worried, but he knew he had every right to be. His father knowing about him being gay would be like a death sentence; no, it wouldn't be _like_ one. It _would be one_. 

As Isaac reached the edge of the woods where he and Scott usually met up, he felt a little comforted by the sight of Scott smiling at him. His initial reaction to seeing Scott was to wrap his arms around him and bury his nose against the warm tan-colored skin of his boyfriend. Scott responded in like, his strong arms wrapping around his taller partner.

"Hey, baby."

God, Isaac loved it when Scott called him baby. It was the best greeting in the world to Isaac.

"I missed you, Scottie," Isaac couldn't help but break out into using the nickname he had for Scott.

"It's only been a day, babe," Scott looked amused, pulling back from the hug slightly so he could caress Isaac's cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I missed you, too," he said softly as he leaned up on his toes and pressed a kiss to the tip of Isaac's nose. 

God, Isaac loved when Scott did that, too.

"Yes, but it's been the longest day of my entire life." Isaac playfully emphasized the words "entire life" with a little dramatic flair in his tone. He earned a chuckle out of his boyfriend. 

"You say that every time." Scott observed with a playful little twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes, I do, because they just seem to get longer and longer." Isaac moved a hand down to entwine his fingers with Scott's free hand.

"You're my baby, you know that, right?" Scott cooed, looking at Isaac with nothing but pure affection in his eyes.

Isaac smiled. Scott had a knack for bringing smiles and giggles out of Isaac. "And you're my baby." He responded softly.

Isaac felt his boyfriend's eyes moving up and down his body. He could tell the exact moment Scott processed the fact he had a new bruise on his forearm. His jaw tightened its position a little, and his eyes hardened a little before softening into a look that made Isaac want to break and down cry.

"I can't do this anymore."

Isaac felt everything in his body suddenly numb. He must of looked like he had been struck, because Scott quickly recovered.

"No, no, I don't want to break up with you." Scott clarified hurriedly. "I meant I can't just keep letting him hurt you like this." He explained, eyeing the greenish brown bruise with a concerned look. "You're my angel, and I can't stand to see you getting hurt. Especially when it's your damn father."

Scott didn't cuss often; when he did, he was usually upset, so Isaac knew Scott was being dead serious. 

"Scott, you know neither of us can do anything about it." Isaac mumbled in an almost defeated tone. "I'll be eighteen soon, then I can go and move in with you, right?"

"Isaac, that's two years away. That's not exactly soon." Scott said with that gentle tone he got in his voice when comforting Isaac. "We've got to do something; _I've_ got to do something." 

"Scott, there's nothing you can do for me. It's best if you leave it alone until I'm old enough to le-" Isaac was cut off by a passionate Scott.

"No, Isaac. It's just going to get worse and worse the more he realizes nothing is going to happen in consequence when he hits you. I can't- I can't let anything bad happen to you." Scott had raised his voice a little, something he rarely did towards Isaac.

Isaac loved many things about Scott, everything about Scott. Sometimes his stubbornness to do good was cute; right now it seemed pointless.

"Scott, I'll be put in the system. I have no living family members that would take me in. My mother's dead, as is my older brother. Who else could I live with legally? Huh?" Isaac responded, trying to raise his voice as well, but he didn't have the energy to do so. He hated this almost arguing they were doing. "Nobody wants me."

"I want you, Isaac," Scott said, his voice dropping to its normal volume. "I want you more than anything else in this world. I want you to be safe. I want to take care of you. But I can't as long as your in the house with that- that- that ungrateful asshole!" Scott's volume returned to a slightly raised tone.

"Scott, what could you possibly do?"

"Confront him. Tell the police. Both." Scott insisted.

Isaac didn't see how either of those would help the matter. He would either be put in the system, or Scott would end up getting hurt. Isaac promised himself quietly that if his father ever laid a hand on Scott, he would murder him then and there.

Scott's expression softened, and he rested his head against Isaac's shoulder. "I just- I love you, Isaac. I don't want anything to hurt you. I just love you so much." Scott breathed out.

For Isaac it took a lot for him to admit he loved someone. After being hurt and disappointed time after time, he had developed a distrust of romance and platonic relationships in general. People were backstabbers. He hadn't said it yet, but Scott had said it on their fifth visit awhile back. He wasn't mad at Isaac for not saying it back; he understood it. He understood Isaac. It was so nice to finally he understood; it was so nice to finally have someone who cares enough to even just try to understand.

"I love you, Scott McCall."

 

Isaac was sitting on his bed the next morning when everything suddenly went haywire. He had a book opened on his lap; something they were required to read in English class. Contrary to the usual, Isaac actually enjoyed the book this time. 

Isaac's attention was forced away from the book when the sound of his bedroom door swinging open made him look up to see who it was. As he had expected, it was his father. What he hadn't expected was for his father to look pissed: more pissed than Isaac had ever encountered before.

"Son, you better explain yourself pretty damn well." His father said in a calm tone.

Isaac was suddenly full of unadulterated terror. Whenever his father took on that calm tone, he knew there was nothing but pain for Isaac next. 

Suddenly there he was, grabbing Isaac by the elbow and dragging him off his bed and out of the bedroom. 

"Mrs. Taylors came to me a few minutes ago with some damning information about your whereabouts for the past, as far as she knows, month." Mr. Lahey spat as he shoved Isaac towards the staircase.

Isaac misstepped and tumbled down the wooden staircase, the corners of the stairs digging into his ribs each time he rolled. They would leave purple and green bruises painted on his pale skin, usually covered by his brother's old shirts that he would wear since his wardrobe mainly consisted of sweaters that were too hot to wear in the summer.

"That was your fault." Mr. Lahey growled before going down the stairs after Isaac, who was just picking himself up. It wasn't the first time he had been shoved down those stairs.

"Dad, I can expl-"

"Don't call me that." Mr. Lahey spat viciously, looking at Isaac with hatred in his eyes. "No faggot is allowed to call me their father."

Isaac flinched at the term, coiling back defensively. He knew he wouldn't be able to hide his relationship with Scott forever, but he hadn't expected to be discovered this soon. He didn't even bother trying to respond. He wasn't going to deny Scott's existence, even if his father expected him to do so.

He could take the beating.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any worse, I get this sprung on me. You must of thought you were pretty slick." 

Isaac tried to take himself away from the moment, focusing instead on memories of Scott.

"You thought you could just sneak out of my house and go fuck that McCall boy, didn't you? You thought I wouldn't find out?"

Scott had the prettiest smile. Isaac liked to think of it.

"You've ruined my entire life, Isaac! You should be ashamed of yourself. Are you even listening to me, you little fucking shit?"

When the first hit came, Isaac was ready for it. He tried to focus on Scott, and how warm his skin felt under Isaac's fingers.

"You should just be put down, don't you think?" 

This caught Isaac's attention, snapping him out of his thoughts about Scott just in time for him to catch a slap that made him stumble into the wall.

"Why would he want anything to do with a useless shit like you? Both of you are disgusting. You're disgusting, Isaac. Your little disgusting flings are over." 

Isaac felt a protective flair come over his mind. "Leave Scott out of this. He's the only damn person who has made me feel like I ought to exist. If you ever say his name again-"

"Oh, or what? Are you gonna fight back? You've never fought back. You're never going to, Isaac. You're weak, that's why. You're not a real man. You're just a pussy." 

Isaac fell back onto the ground when the third hit came. He crawled backwards, looking around for something to defend himself with. He grabbed a glass from the counter and threw it, hitting his father in the shoulder.

"Oh, you're trying to give me a taste of my own medicine, Isaac? Well you're about to get a whole shit load of it, fucker."  

That was when the real fighting starter. Isaac could feel each bruising hit slamming against his skin, yet he fought back this time. He figured out he could outsmart his dad. He was faster and a bit stronger, right? Nonetheless, he found himself cornered in the kitchen, a heavy glass pitcher just within an arm's length of reach. He reached out for it, but it was suddenly snatched out of his grip.

There was struggle until the glass pitcher was slammed against his head, and Isaac crumpled to the ground, his last thought about Scott before he went unconscious.

 

The next night, Scott waited for Isaac. He waited and waited and waited until he finally realized his boyfriend wasn't coming.

Concern ate at Scott like poison in his stomach. 

The night after that, Scott waited for his boyfriend again. After several hours, he couldn't stay anymore. He left a note at their meeting place. 

On the third night of Isaac not showing up, Scott knew that something was very, very wrong. Isaac wasn't at school or anything. He was officially a missing person.

 

The day after that, Mr. Lahey was arrested for the murder of his son.


	9. the anatomy of love

It all started with the way they looked at each other.

Scott looked at Isaac like the boy held all of the stars in those soft baby blue eyes of his. Isaac was his sun, and Scott was the planets who merely orbited around him. Scott's warm gaze held the importance of Isaac— with glittering orbs and curved lips, it was obvious Scott was deeply in love.

Isaac looked at Scott like Scott was his knight in shining armour. No, they weren't in a fairy tale world, but Isaac was willing to make it into his own story. His story with Scott— who had become his Prince Charming. Scott may not of swooped in on a purebred white stallion, sword unsheathed and ready to fight evil, but he had saved Isaac from himself. All of that was held in those lovestruck crystal eyes.

Then it was the way they touched each other.

Scott was one for warm embraces and lengthy hugs. His touches were sure and steady, like a lighthouse guiding a ship during a dark and stormy night. He was gentle but firm in his embraces, holding Isaac like he was a glass figurine sculped in the utmost beauty.

Isaac was light and fleeting. Where Scott was steadfast and sure, Isaac was soft and gentle in a different way. He yearned for the long embraces and cuddles Scott would give, but he in turn gave light and soft touches: running his fingertips along Scott's jaw, gently scraping his fingernails along the skin of Scott's forearm.

Next was the way they spoke to and of each other.

Scott would always be gentle when it came to Isaac. He knew Isaac wasn't necessarily made of glass, but it often appeared so. He would be careful with his tones as a considerate lover should, and he would try his best not to raise his volume too much in fear of triggering Isaac.   
When speaking of Isaac while the boy isn't around, his words were always full of affection and longing. Anyone who listens to him for the  
first ten seconds already knows the boy is utterly in love.

Isaac was originally careful with his words around Scott before he got to know him. He would often project himself as a more confident person than he actually was around others, but something about Scott had broken his walls down and made him rethink every word before it escaped his parted lips. Now, however, he speaks to Scott mostly without fear. Scott was doing what he had thought was impossible; slowly undoing the damage his father had caused. He would never fully be able to undo it, but he was making a little progress.  
When speaking of Scott without his presence, Isaac would be protective and completely head over heels. He would end up repeating how proud he is to have such a good boyfriend.

Then it was how they left each other.  
One was broken physically, and the other was left broken emotionally.


End file.
